My name is Son.
Is Spirit.
Is lost and found in a thousand
tongues of men.
My name is what you used
to cry in the night. In the days
of destruction. Back, back!
History is in my veins.
Is tattoos on your flesh.
I am the colour white.
A prism of scarred skin.
Blood-red rainbow running
deep underneath and
behind. A reflection only
as real as the object being
viewed. The thing
you look at and no
longer name.
Always see through, now.
My name is Ghost.
Don’t you recall?
Ellie Rose McKee is a published poet, short story writer, and novelist as well as someone who dabbles in traditional art. Her website is ellierosemckee.com